


Just Say the Word (We'll Take on the World)

by keepholtingon



Series: Just Say the Word (We'll Take on the World) [1]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: ADHD, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Jake Peralta, Jake Peralta Loves Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta has ADHD, Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago Fluff, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keepholtingon/pseuds/keepholtingon
Summary: Jake Peralta is recently diagnosed with ADHD, and it makes for some interesting times at the 99th precinct. Jake is dealing with how to navigate his new diagnosis and how to be the best crime-fighting detective in Brooklyn (or at least better than Amy). He can't do it without the help of his friends at the bullpen, and sometimes he needs help remembering that.Subplot: Jake goes undercover at a nursing home facility with Hitchcock and Scully as his gay dads. They try to solve the mystery of who pushed Doug Judy's grandmother down the stairs.**On hiatus for now! I have a more exciting project coming!**
Relationships: Charles Boyle & Jake Peralta, Doug Judy & Jake Peralta, Jake Peralta & Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta & Everyone, Ray Holt & Jake Peralta
Series: Just Say the Word (We'll Take on the World) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772809
Comments: 15
Kudos: 87





	1. The Lost Bet | Monday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, Captain. What did you want to talk about?” Jake clasped his hands. “No, wait! Let me guess. You’re promoting me. You’re firing Amy. You’re going to let us do whatever we want now?” He searched the Captain’s eyes for any sign of amusement, and found none.”No more ties…?”
> 
> Holt sighed. “No, Jake. I want to talk to you about your behavior.”
> 
> “Oh, okay then. Permission to leave now, sir?”
> 
> "Permission denied."

EVERYONE HAD GONE home for the day. The office was unusually quiet, and the only noise that came from the bullpen was the occasional clicking of keys on Jake’s computer. Before him were two piles of paperwork, the result of a failed bet between him and Hitchcock. They had bet a whole week’s worth of paperwork on who could escape from handcuffs the quickest, with Gina playing the referee. Jake had lost terribly: the irony of losing to the Nine-Nine’s worst detective not lost on him. But fair was fair, so here Jake was: sleep-deprived, bored, and with two more mountains of paperwork balancing atop his desk to keep him company throughout the night.

God, was he bored.

Every noise bothered him. He could tune out the noises of his keyboard usually, but tonight it was especially hard for him to ignore the sound of the air conditioning kicking in. The occasional cough of someone outside the bullpen. The most infuriating of them all -- the constant _tick-tick-tick_ of the clock nearby, a painful reminder of every second that he couldn’t focus on these stupid papers. It was simple, really. Hitchcock already did the work: he solved the elementary cases, he wrote everything in the tiny little squares, he made sure that every file was painstakingly ordered and named correctly. That part was done.

All Jake had to do was put the information from paper into the data system on the computer. It was so _easy_ and yet Jake could never focus long enough to get it done properly. He was always thinking ahead to the next thing, always wanting the next exciting thing to happen for the precinct. He could hardly think of anything more boring than spending the night entering data into the computer. Except for maybe Santiago.

He clicked away from his current tab and pulled up Reddit, mindlessly scrolling for a few minutes. Sometimes he visited the r/RBI subreddit, where people posted about their own little mysteries for strangers to solve. It was fun to be an Internet detective sometimes. That is, when he wasn’t being a super awesome real-life detective, putting away bad guys with style. He scrolled through the posts until he saw one that caught his eye: a cold case entitled: “My Step-dad Went Missing Two Years Ago, And I Think My Mom Is Behind It All. She is dead now. What can I do next?” He clicked on it and settled into his chair, propping his legs up on the small space of his desk that wasn’t super cluttered. If there was anything Jake was good at, it was solving cold cases. He reached for his thermos of coffee and took a long sip. This case looked promising.

“Peralta.”

Holt’s voice cut through the still air, making Jake nearly jump out of his own skin, sending some stray papers fluttering to the floor.

“Captain! I didn’t hear you come in. Uh, what are you doing here?” Jake asked, composing himself. He wiped some coffee drops off of his shirt with his tie. He smiled broadly. “Besides being _devastatingly_ handsome, sir.”

Holt stared at him, unamused. “I come here sometimes to practice my soap carving skills. Kevin and I have joined a class. The squeaking of the soap as I whittle away annoys Kevin while he sleeps, so I prefer the quietness of the bullpen at night.”

Jake furrowed his brow. “Okay, _weird_. We’ll talk about that later.”

“It’s nearly midnight, Jake. What are _you_ doing here?”

Had he really been there that long? And nothing to show for it...

Holt stepped closer to the desk, taking in the copious amounts of files and files stacked on top of each other. “These are Hitchcock’s cases, Peralta. I assume you lost another bet?”

Jake smiled sheepishly. “You assume correctly. Hitchcock bet me that he could escape from Rosa’s handcuffs before me, and I can’t resist a bet, you know that --”

“Mm.”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Okay, _fine_. _I_ bet Hitchcock, but --”

“Peralta, go home. It’s late.”

“What? No, I’m still working on this cold case! I’m almost done.”

Holt sighed. “I was going to save this conversation for a more opportune time, but you just reminded me. Seeing as we are alone now, I want to bring something up with you.” He looked away for a moment. “...As your friend.”

Jake gasped. His eyes lit up with joy. “Woah, woah, woah. Okay.” He leaned back in his chair, fainting dramatically. “Captain Holt! Did you just say we’re _friends_?”

Holt pursed his lips. “Take a moment to compose yourself, Peralta. I’ll wait.”

Jake sobered up. “Okay, Captain. What did you want to talk about?” He clasped his hands. “No, wait! Let me guess. You’re promoting me. You’re firing Amy. You’re going to let us do whatever we want now?” He searched the Captain’s eyes for any sign of amusement, and found none.”No more ties…?” he added hopefully.

Holt sighed. “No, Jake. I want to talk to you about your behavior.”

Jake flinched. “Oh, okay then. Permission to leave now, sir?”

Holt sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Permission denied. I would like you to make an appointment for a psychological evaluation through the Department. You can arrange for Wednesday morning, and you can return on Thursday.”

Jake frowned. “Wait, what? Why? I’m the best detective here, Captain. Can you _really_ afford to lose me for a day?” He gestured to the heap of work in front of them. “I mean, who is going to complete all of this work while I’m gone?”

Holt grabbed a stack of papers and plopped it down at Hitchcock and Scully’s work area.

“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.”

Holt looked back at Jake, his expression softening. Which, to the untrained eye, was not a stark contrast to his usual self. “I suppose I might...owe you an explanation.”

“Uhh, _yeah_! That’d be very much appreciated, sir.” Jake raked his hand through his messy hair. What had happened? Jake’s mind raced through the last week. He had caught seven perps in the last five days alone, and solved one murder with the help of Amy. He hadn’t been the best with paperwork the last week -- or ever, really -- but the important thing was that Jake had handled the important stuff. The bad guys were off the streets thanks to him. And yeah, okay, sometimes he didn’t focus on things happening around him, but that’s only because he was always several steps ahead of everyone else. That’s how he solved the cases. So what’s the problem?

“Jake,” Holt started carefully, “I would like you to consider receiving treatment for your ADHD.”

Jake made a face. “Pfft, what? Me, ADHD? No. What? Me? No.”

“With all due respect, Jake, the symptoms are all there. Forgive me if it is not my place, but it isn’t exactly hard to detect.”

"Right, because you can detect something like that," Jake retorted. "Which software update did that come in? I wasn't aware you could do that, Mr. Robot." As soon the words left Jake's mouth, he cringed. Not his best comeback, but he felt hurt. Who was Holt to say whether Jake had ADHD, and to say that it's _obvious_ is just rude.

Holt frowned. “We can provide psychological help for you if you wish, Jake. It might be best to get evaluated, and investigate what is going on inside that brilliant head of yours.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I think you should just give this little ‘investigation’ a rest. It’s clearly a cold case.” Jake started packing up his belongings to leave.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't going the best way about it, but it was starting to click. What if the Captain was right? What if the reason he was the way he was is because he has ADHD? It would certainly explain his inability to focus on things that are boring or time-consuming, or why he was constantly fidgeting, or why he always had a disorganized desk. But everybody did those things, right? Everybody struggles with that stuff. Except for Amy, but she doesn’t count because she’s, well, Amy.

Holt cleared his throat, regaining Jake’s attention. “I believe I have created an internal conflict for you. I apologize. I assumed you had been diagnosed due to your chronic inability to show up on time, your hazardous working conditions, e.g. your desk” --Holt pointedly looks to the mounds of case files threatening to cause an avalanche-- “and your ever-present propensity for disobeying my authority.”

“Wow, okay. Yep. I’m leaving now. Bye, Captain! It really was great catching up with you, but I do have places to be now, so I will, er, see you later.” Jake grabbed his leather jacket from the back of his chair and logged off his work computer. “Thanks again, really. Yep. This is fine. Cool. Okay, byeee!” He left the room, slamming the door behind him. Oops. He hadn’t meant to do that.

Holt paused, closing his eyes. Then: “Peralta.”

Jake backtracked. “Yep, I know. Forgot my phone.” He did a little backwards, tip-toed half-jog back to his desk. He grabbed his phone and shoved it in his pocket. “Thanks, Captain.” He turned to leave again, but Holt stopped him.

“Jake, I am...grateful for all that you do for the precinct. With Wuntch around now, breathing down our necks, I really need you to be on your best behavior. She has already been in talks about firing people for petty misbehavior.” His voice softened once more, and Jake could tell it likely physically hurt him. Sidenote, can robots emote? And if they can, which update was _that_ added in?

“I want you to consider all possibilities in order to make sure that doesn’t happen to you. Your work depends on it.”

Jake sighed, defeated. “Fine. What do I need to do?”

“I will make your appointment for you tomorrow morning for Wednesday. You will go to the sixth floor of this building where Psychological Services is located. They will ask you a myriad of questions about your work and personal life, and they will make a diagnosis from there.”

“Sounds easy enough. Is that all? Are we done here?”

“Yes, there is...one more thing.”

“Sir?” Jake raised his eyebrows.

Holt smiled. “I will handle half of this week’s paper work for you, so long as you follow through with this appointment, and no more silly bets.” H

Jake perked up. “Wait, really? Thanks, Captain, you’re the best!” He gave Holt a hug, which Holt did not reciprocate back.

“Now, now. That’s enough of that,” he said, grimacing.

Jake pulled away. “Thank you for all your concern, Captain, even though it is rooted in fear of your superior. I will take all the love from you I can get, and I will not disappoint you any more than I already have."

“You’re a great detective, Peralta. I hate to see you performing below your potential.”

“Title of your sex tape! ... _Wait_ , was that a self-burn?”

Holt looked at him sternly. “We care about you, Jake. Take this seriously.”

"When am I never not serious, Captain?"

"Dismissed, Peralta."

And they were back.


	2. The Briefing | Tuesday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s been a terrible accident. Early this morning, an elderly woman fell down the stairs at Caltworth Assisted Living and badly broke her left arm. She was in a wheelchair.” Terry clicked forward another slide to reveal the resident’s face. “This is Meredith. She is sixty-five with no major health problems. She's there because she just really hates her kids. The family has stated that there was no need for her to be in a wheelchair. We are suspecting foul play. And--” Terry clicked forward once more. “--this is her grandson.”

“YOU'RE LATE AGAIN, Jake.” Terry shook his head, writing something on his clipboard. 

Jake ducked into the briefing room, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry, I had to stop by the cafe to ask some questions for a case I’m working on. Also, they have _really_ good caramel macchiatos!” He held up his drink. Terry didn’t budge. “I got you yogurt, though!” Jake tossed the cup of mango yogurt to the Sergeant, who caught it and smiled. Terry loves yogurt.

“Forgiven, Peralta. Now take your seat.”

Jake slid into his usual seat behind Amy, and kicked his feet up on the table. She turned around, giving him the stink eye. “Feet down, Peralta. You’re being distracting!” she whispered.

“Excuse me, what? Sorry, Amy, no, I will _not_ go out with you!” Jake said loudly, looking around the briefing room. Charles gave him a high-five. Rosa and Amy both rolled their eyes.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Terry continued, focusing the group’s attention toward the TV monitor. He clicked forward a slide in his Powerpoint, showing a picture of the exterior of a nursing home. “There’s been a terrible accident. Early this morning, an elderly woman fell down the stairs at Caltworth Assisted Living and badly broke her left arm. She was in a wheelchair.” He clicked forward another slide to reveal the resident’s face. “This is Meredith. She is sixty-five with no major health problems. She's there because she just really hates her kids. The family has stated that there was no need for her to be in a wheelchair. We are suspecting foul play. And--” Terry clicked forward once more. “--this is her grandson.”

“What? No way!” Jake exclaimed, leaning back in his chair. On the screen was Doug Judy, smiling with Meredith and several other family members at a Fourth of July cookout. 

“So this means--” Amy started, writing furiously in her notebook.

“--That I am going to solve this case _and_ finally arrest Doug Judy!” Jake interrupted, punching the air with his fist. “It’s going to be another win for me.”

“Actually, no,” Terry said. “Nice try, though. I already have your assignments, Detectives.”

He looked out at each of them. “I already had Santiago on the scene shortly after it happened. She spoke with Meredith, and she seems pretty shaken up about the whole ordeal and refused to give a statement. She was en route to the hospital with her husband via ambulance. Santiago got pictures, quotes, and is currently in talks with the nurses on duty.” Terry looked to Jake. “Let Santiago handle Doug Judy, Peralta. No offense, but you don’t have the best track record when it comes to him. Besides, Santiago believes that Meredith is hiding something. Someone _pushed_ her down those stairs. I want you to go undercover and find out what exactly happened.”

Jake scoffed. “Pfft, easy.”

“Peralta, I am assigning you to partner with Hitchcock and Scully this afternoon.”

Rosa snorted. “Ha-ha, you have to partner with Hitchcock and Scully!”

Jake rolled his eyes. “I mean, come on, Sarge. I -- Why couldn’t I have gone this morning to the scene with Amy?” 

Amy smirked. “Guess he needed a _competent_ detective, Jake.”

“I know you are but what am I?” Jake sneered, then shut up. He _really_ was not on a roll lately. Jake sighed. “Come on, Sarge. I’m begging you. Don’t make me work this with them.” He glanced behind him at Hitchcock and Scully who were preoccupied with throwing popcorn into each other’s mouths, missing entirely. “I mean, look at them!”

Terry looked at them, unfazed. “Hitchcock and Scully are your gay dads. They are wanting to move into Caltworth Assisted Living together in a one-bedroom suite.” He clicked forward in the presentation, revealing a beautiful suite: king-sized bed, large, flat-screen television, and two large wardrobes with brass locks on them. They had an en-suite bathroom with a walk-in shower and bathtub, toilet with a bidet, and an automatic hand-drying station. They provided a spacious living area with a couch, impressive computer and desk set-up, and off to the living room was a small kitchen with basic appliances. The suite also provided a nice balcony.

“Identical to the one that Meredith stays in with her husband. Santiago discovered that there was an empty suite right next to Meredith’s.” He paused. “Your assignment is to get into Meredith’s suite and find any evidence you can that points to who could have possibly pushed Meredith down those stairs, and why.”

Jake perked up. “Okay, so all I have to do is be a super cool spy, and look super cool doing it?” He looked back at Hitchcock and Scully and gave them a thumbs-up. Scully smiled. Hitchcock threw another piece of popcorn at Scully's face, and missed.

“Yep, pretty much. Don’t make Terry regret this, Jake,” Terry said. “Hitchcock and Scully need a win, and they can’t do that without you. Get into your costumes and get going.”

“Awesome,” Jake said. “Hitchcock, Scully, you’re now my super gross, gay dads. Are you ready to do a better detective job than Amy Santiago, and get yourselves a win?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get a bit more interesting, I swear! We'll see more ADHD Jake in the next chapter on their assignment.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, thank you so much for the kudos and comments! They make my day!  
> This is my first B99 fic, so I'm trying to do my best with characterization and plot and stuff.  
> Let me know if you have any constructive criticism! :)


End file.
